A Small Measure of Peace
by Mononoke Lynn
Summary: Laisha turned red with embarrassment and guilt. Smacking a complete stranger with a bucket wasn't exactly the best way to meet people.
1. Chapter 1

June 28, 2011 edit: Thank you to my two wonderful reviewers (moony1981 and Mizue-chan, and whoever else may have read and wanted to comment but were unable to due to my review settings): you took the time to read all 14,000 words of my original oneshot post. But sadly, many do not have the attention span to read so much in one post. It will be reposted in 6 parts. So enjoy my lovelies!

_Disclaimer:_ I own nothing of Young Guns. It's copyrights belongs to The Man, thus not me; and the real life men of the Southwest that have given me joy to write about their lives from a romantic viewpoint. So to our beloved outlaws, the women who loved them, and to those of us who still love them, I dedicate this story.  
I do not own the song "Come Josephine in My Flying Machine." This specific version was performed by Moya (or Marie) Brennan from the _Back to Titanic _album.  
I also do not own the song "A Small Measure of Peace" (and "The Way of the Sword"), which are from _The Last Samurai_ soundtrack by Hans Zimmer. I put these songs on repeat and let them take me away. You can find these songs on youtube or Bing music. I suggest using them if you want the full effect of the changing tone of the story.  
Also, if you ever watched the awesome Telenovela _Zorro La Espada y La Rosa_, you'll see a few connections; such connections I hold no account to - it belongs to Telemundo.

_Authors Note:_ When I started this story, it was after a trip to Phoenix (Glendale), Arizona & Anaheim, California, which was less than two years ago. Glendale fed me with its Billy the Kid scenery, and Disneyland, to be specific, fed me the desire to imagine anything. As time went by, I started my University experience, and took a Beginning Fiction Writing class, and then the next semester, a Craft of Fiction Writing class. I learned many things about writing, and to express myself in better words.

Over five years in the making, since seeing it the first time at Umi's (aka Taenzcher's) house, I had a blast writing this! So, now to move on and continue working on the sequel to Setting of the Sun! Love you all!

**A Small Measure of Peace**

***~-|-~*~-|-~*Chapter One*~-|-~*~-|-~***

Who couldn't help but look up every time Billy rode into the village. Billy, Arkansas Dave and Pat Garrett would always get off their horses and go inside of Beever's tavern. Celsa Baca lovingly hid the boys whenever soldiers came by, despite the $500 reward for Billy's head alone.

Laisha had watched them for a few years, coming in, going out. It was always the same, sometimes resulting in a shootout with the townsfolk who wanted Billy's reward more than Billy's friendship. But one day, Billy rode in with a few strangers. One had bright blond hair, and the other was of darker skin, like her. The people of the village fled in fear of the new strangers. Her father, Jesus, had been called upon by Billy to find men to travel on Billy's new quest. But her father only found one man; it was Mr. French. Hendry French had lost his wife in childbirth, along with the child, and his farm within two years of obtaining all he had desired. Hendry would sometimes stop by and have dinner with her family after the passing of his spouse and baby. It had been heartbreaking to see such a kind man go through so much pain.

The village recently had received orphans from an orphan train from the east coast. Most of the children had left to claim their fortunes on ranches that sucked the life out the people and the land, and the people's pocketbooks. Laisha noted how foolishly the boy hung around Beever's despite the fact that Beever threw the boy out on his face on more than one occasion. But Billy must have taken pity on the boy, because only a day after the stranger's arrival, Billy and his improved posse were preparing another departure. It had been rumored that Billy was setting his eyes on Governor Wallace, for what reason was probably stemmed from the bounty.

"Laisha, go bring some water for the soup," her mother ordered.

Laisha did not argue and tore herself away from the garden. There was nothing else to do in the quiet village. She sat the metal bucket on the ground with a thump. Wiping the sweat off her brow, and lowered the rope-bound bucket into the well. She pulled it back and emptied the bucket into her own. "Oh good grief," she said to herself as she was how little water the small bucket had to offer. It was take at least thirty minutes to have enough for the soup.

She stood up quickly and her head hit something, and whatever it was, it gasped in pain. She rubbed her throbbing head and turned around, "Oh I am so sorry!" It was the Indian that Billy had brought in today with the blond man. She blushed a fierce crimson at her embarrassment. She wasn't graceful, but she wasn't clumsy either.

"S'okay," the man said and touched his face. "It seems my nose is at least in one piece."

Laisha laughed nervously, "Really, I am sorry. I didn't hear you or see you."

"Obviously," the young man smiled. "Am I bleeding?"

She grimaced, "Unfortunately yes."

He wiped off his nose with his dirty sleeve and drew in a breath of air quickly.

"Oh, please, let me help you. It's the least I can do." She picked up her nearly-empty bucket and motioned for him to follow her, and he did. She led him to her family's small home at the edge of the village. "Mother?" she called as she entered the hut. No reply came, "She must be tending to the garden out back." She pulled out a chair, "Have a seat. I need to check how bad I hit you."

The man sat down, "I'm Jose Chavez y Chavez by the way, ma'am. I go by Chavez."

"Laisha," she said as she used the little amount of water in the bucket to boil.

"Laisha? That's a rare name. I typically meet Maria's."

"My grandmother was a gypsy; I was named after her." She watched the water simmer in the pan. "She died when I was very young, so I never was able to know her." She reached into a covered basket and pulled out a few strips of cloth.

"Do both your parents live here?"

Laisha nodded, "Yes. My father was the one who went to find more people to ride with you, Billy, and the others."

"Jose or something like that wasn't it? His name."

"Jesus."

Chavez nodded.

"My father is one of the head workers for the Maxwell family." She dropped the strips of cloth into the boiling water.

"What about your mother?"

"She works here at home and sometimes at other homes." She turned to him and smirked, "You are asking me all the questions."

"I just want to get to know my attacker better," Chavez smirked back.

She put a wooden spoon into the water pulled out a strip. She walked over and began touching up his bloody nose with a gentle hand. "Wow, all I felt was a little throbbing on my head. I did some major damage on you though."

"I've had worse. I been shot, stabbed, beaten; it's all good."

"Wow, you've lived an exciting life. What foray of business involved you in all of that?"

"I used to be one of the Tunstall regulators."

Laisha froze and looked at him, "I remember reading in the paper about it. I remember that the Regulators had at least thirty men in the McSween house."

Chavez shook his head, "There was only five of us, actually, as well as Mr. and Mrs. McSween, and Yin – Murphey's hostage."

"So few?" she said sadly.

"Billy, myself, and one other regulator survived of the original six we started out with."

Laisha headed back to the kettle to get another strip.

"I've tried to keep a low profile since then; I took a job on a fruit farm in California. But someone turned me in; I was brought into Lincoln nearly a month ago. My friend-"

"The blond man?" she interrupted as she began working on his nose again.

Chavez nodded, "-Doc was brought in all the way from New York; they tracked him down that far." Chavez shook his head. "Doc does not deserve being here. Ouch!"

Laisha raised an eyebrow. "If you stopped moving, you wouldn't bump your nose."

Chavez sighed. "Well, Doc's a good man with a gentle soul. But put into bad situations, he has the ability to kill if he needed to."

"What about you?"

"I've had to kill in order to survive since I was little. It seems to come with the territory of being an Indian these days."

"What people do you belong to?"

"I'm half Navaho and half Mexican. What about you? You mentioned something about being partial gypsy."

"I'm half Mexican as well, on my father's side; and a quarter gypsy and a quarter Spanish on my mother's side."

"Spanish?"

"My mother's father hailed from Spain. He was a well-to-do caballero." She leaned back. "I think that's good. It's stopped bleeding."

Chavez smiled, "Thank you."

"Would you like to stay for dinner?"

A moment of silence passed between them as he gazed at her, "I would like to. Thank you."

Laisha grinned back.

* * *

Laisha's mother, Maria Pia, looked upon her scornfully. When Laisha had told her mother about Chavez staying for dinner, she almost blew a top. She ranted to Liasha that there was not enough food, and to dine with an outlaw was different that living in the same village as one.

"So, you're going on an adventure with Billy?" her mother asked as she spooned soup into her mouth. She had made it a point to sit directly across from Chavez, to make sure he was up to no funny business.

"Of sorts," Chavez said slowly. He cleared his throat, "I hope I'm not a inconvenience."

Jesus smiled, "Not at all! Any friend of Billy's is a friend of the family."

Laisha smiled at her father, happy at least that one of her parents decided Chavez was okay. He appeared to be a genuine person...

"I'm afraid that this is all we have to eat this evening: the soup and bread," Maria Pia snapped.

It was Laisha's turn to glare at her mother, fighting the urge the kick her mother's shine from under the table.

"Oh, that's fine. I haven't had a home cooked meal in so long that I forgot how good it is."

"I'm sure an outlaw doesn't get the chance to eat real food often, especially good food."

Chavez nodded to Maria Pia. "That's true."

"So why start now OUCH!" Maria Pia shot a threatening look at Laisha.

Laisha shot daggers at her mother with her eyes.

Chavez couldn't help but chuckle, "It's okay. I'm used to being insulted. I had a friend once who used to insult me nearly all the time."

"What happened to him?" Laisha asked.

"He died during the McSween battle."

"Okay, that's it!" Maria Pia stood up. "Are you finished Mr. Chavez!"

Chavez downed the rest of his soup and clutched his bread.

"Good! Get out!" she shouted.

"Mother!" Laisha yelled back.

"Maria Pia, please!" Jesus argued.

"No, I want him out! Outlaws belong outside of this home!"

Chavez closed his eyes for a moment, his nostrils flaring. He could only take crap for so long... He stood up so quickly that his chair ricocheted off of him and hit the wall. He gritted his teeth at Maria Pia, "Goodnight m'am." He nodded to Jesus, "Thank you for having me over."

Jesus smiled, "Anytime!"

Chavez turned to Laisha and smiled softly. "Laisha, I hope to see you again."

Laisha smiled back, "You will." She watched him turn and walk out of the house, closing the wooden plank door. She immediately grabbed the basket of biscuits and headed to the door.

"And where do you think you're going, with our food!" Maria Pia shouted.

Laisha glared at her mother, "To make an apology, which you should be making! You're always horrible when it comes to being a hostess! Grandfather would be furious. You're never nice or courteous; you are in fact a black-hearted witch!"

Maria Pia gasped and placed a hand on her heaving chest, outraged. "How dare you!"

Laisha rolled her eyes at her mother as Maria Pia began yelling at her in Spanish. She walked out the door and closed it on her mother.


	2. Chapter 2

For disclaimers, please see chapter one. Made purely for fun, and was a free writing piece I did when I was frustrated during my Craft of Fiction Writing class.

Yeah, this was my I-have-a-fiction-paper-due-and-I-have-writers-block work.

But I think this turned our rather well.

Writing this allowed me also to get out the story I desperately wanted to write since I first saw Young Guns II at 2 am at Taenzcher's pad. By doing this now, I was able to move back into the first Young Guns' fic sequel.

I know some of you have been waiting ever so patiently for my Setting of the Sun sequel...so long in fact you've probably nearly forgotten the story. Sorry it's taking that long, but I am working on it! In fact, I brought a few notebooks to scribble things down in during class this past spring semester. Being an English major takes up all time of reading and writing for fun, but I am getting a Creative Writing minor out of is...c'est la vie.

If you are curious about my works, please visit my homepage I set up specifically for my works, fan fiction and original fiction.

Part 2 of 6. Enjoy!

**A Small Measure of Peace**

***~-|-~*~-|-~*Chapter Two*~-|-~*~-|-~***

Laisha had looked all over the small village, but she didn't find him. She could only think he was, thus, at Beever Smith's, but she really didn't want to go in there. Beever was rather, well, vulgar about young women. But she felt that maybe between Billy and Chavez, she should be okay. She pushed the curtain back and saw Chavez, Billy, Arkansas Dave, Pat Garrett, Hendry French, the blond man from earlier that Chavez called Doc, and the young boy that had been seen around the village.

Chavez looked up from his knives, "Laisha!"

Giggles erupted from Billy and Dave.

She made eye contact with Hendry French and beamed. "Good evening Mr. French," she said as she walked to the table the men were gathered around.

Hendry tipped his hat, "Hello there Miss Laisha. What brings you to this place?"

Laisha sent a pleading look at Chavez, "A major apology for the way my mother acted." She turned to Hendry, "You know her; always sticking it where the sun don't shine."

Hendry beamed and said sarcastically, "Your mother has a right way this words; always knows exactly what to say and when to say it."

The young boy joined the group and pointed to her basket. "What's all them biscuits for?"

"These," she swept an area of the table clean and gingerly sat the biscuits down, "Are the apology for which my mother will never, ever make." Laisha turned to Chavez, "Really, I am so sorry about what she said. She's always been pig-headed."

Chavez smirked, "I'm sure what was fuming at the thought of taking all the biscuits to feed the outlaws and Indian."

"Haha!" Laisha laughed, "Indeed she was!" She saw how they eyed the biscuits, "You may have them on one condition."

Billy looked up from his gun, "And what condition is that?"

Dave leaned on the table and crossed his arms. "Do we need to sleep with you in order to earn those biscuits?" he laughed.

Laisha felt herself sink in as though someone had punched her in the chest. A somber and hurt look crossed her face that matched her sudden feelings within.

A knife landed right in front of Dave and he jumped back from the table.

Chavez stood and grabbed his knife, glaring at Dave. "You don't mouth off like that to a lady."

Dave opened his mouth for a comeback, but Doc beat him to it. "Dave, watch your tongue. Chavez is right, you do not mouth off to a young lady.

Billy proceeded to round up the biscuits and pull them towards him. "For that Dave, you don't get ANY biscuits."

Dave's mouth dropped. "What! Come on Billy, that ain't fair!"

"It's perfectly fair Dave. NO BISCUITS FOR YOU."

Laisha smiled slightly, feeling a little better after Dave's insulting idea. "Well, umm, I have to go now, so goodbye to you all. Mr. French, Billy, Chavez..." She walked out of Beever's a little crushed.

"Laisha, wait up," a voice called.

Laisha spun around and saw Chavez walking to her. She stood her ground, heart pounding.

When he stood in front of her, he had a request, "Would it be alright if we went somewhere and talked?"

She nodded her head. "There's some benches on the side of the church."

Chavez nodded and smiled, "Sounds good."

They both walked in the direction of the church, silence passing between them. Laisha knew what she was doing was rather dangerous. Chavez wasn't a total stranger, but she did not know him very well. And to sit with him in a dark, secluded area would send her mother flying if they were discovered. But for once in her life, she wanted to take a risk, a chance!

Chavez pulled one bench up to another as to give them both more room. "So tell me," he said as he sat down, "What exactly was the original condition you were going to request."

Laisha smiled a little more, "That Beever Smith didn't get any."

Chavez laughed.

Laisha laughed now too. "Don't laugh! For your information the man is a scoundrel, a greedy cheat, and is well known around the village for peeping."

"I've known him less than 12 hours and I have to agree with you." He turned to her, "Look, it's my turn to apologize. I've also known Dave less than 12 hours and I can't stand him already."

"Then your journey with Billy should prove to be interesting."

Chavez chuckled, "Yes, it will." He looked up at the New Mexico sky. "Clear tonight, isn't it?"

"It looks like that every night."

"I haven't seen the sky here for a while. I've been in California for a few years, and then I was dragged back here. I was tied up in a storage car on a train, and then thrown into a pit for a while before Billy came to get Doc and me. I haven't seen this sky for so long."

She looked up at the sky too. "Is it different out there?"

"What do you mean?"

"Is the world different than here? This is all I know, but I...want more than what this place has to offer."

"Every place differs. The further east you go, minus Texas, the less likely you are to get shot randomly." He glanced at her, "I think you would fit in very well in the east."

She smiled at him, "Maybe I'll go there someday. My mother wants me to marry someone soon, but I don't want to. Not yet."

"Have you told her that?"

"Oh yes, and then she proceeded to throw a chair at the wall."

"May I ask you something slightly personal?"

"Of course."

"Why is your mother the way she is? I thought you said she came from humble origins."

"She did, but I guess she desperately wanted more, strangely like I want more. Her father was a caballero, but she was illegitimate, so she was denied his lifestyle. But grandmother loved her and so she let her go seek her fortune. The whole group was apparently happy to see her go. Mom is kind of the black sheep of the family."

"I thought you said your grandmother died when you were young?"

"She did. I got this information from a friend of my grandmother's, who died a few years ago."

A moment of silence passed between them as they gazed up at the sky.

"So if you don't plan on marrying soon, what will you do?"

"Well, I know she'd kick me out if I told her I didn't want to marry yet. I know I would not resort to walking the streets. At least Paulita Maxwell's parents let her choose the relationship she has." Chavez stole a glance at her and she met it. "What? Everyone in town knows she and Billy are involved in a little hanky-panky."

He half-smirked at her. "You into gossip or something?"

"No; it just happens to be a well-known fact."

He shook his head and whispered to himself more than anything, "Leave it to Billy." He looked back at her with his eyes alone. "So, what exactly do you want to do then?"

"Well, I could be a teacher, or a nurse."

Chavez was silent for a moment, "Would you force your religion on those who belong to another?"

Laisha slowly looked at him, "I...don't understand."

"For hundreds of years now, whites have been forcing an ultimatum on my people. And when I say my people, I mean every tribe that once lived on these lands before whites. That ultimatum was either to convert to Christianity; or to be killed quickly by gunfire or hanging, or slowly by being forced onto reservations. And even when we did convert, they did not treat us like the equals as they promised."

"I...I had no idea that was going on, Chavez," she said quietly. She wanted so desperately to apologize to him, but she, herself, had not done these things, nor anyone she knew. "If I did become a teacher, it would be to help. I would teach people how to read, how to perform basic mathematics. I did stay in school as far as the system would let me go; mother demanded that of me. I read reasonably well, and although my mathematic skills are not up to par, I think I could still manage to teach it with help of books."

"You have no desire to force religion on people?"

"I can't help but be truthful, Chavez. I would NOT force it on anyone, never ever. But if they were curious, I guess I could talk about it."

"Aren't there different branches of Christianity?"

"Umm, yes."

"What's the one around here?"

"Catholic mostly."

"Are you catholic?"

"Yes...?"

"Well, the farther north you go, it's more..." Chavez creased his brow, frustrated. "Oh, it's starts with a P..."

"Protestant?"

"Yes, that's it! And the two blend better when you go farther east. And the farther it spreads west, the more of my people loose who we are."

There was nothing Laisha could say.

"They strip us slowly; inch by inch, acre by acre of land. Then we are made to move and keep moving while we die of disease and hunger. When we cried out for food or water, we were denied basic necessities because we were Indians. We were forced onto barren lands and told to farm for our living. How can you plant crops where the land is sandy and dry? Even when we speak amongst ourselves, fear overcame whites and dispersed us. Frustrated we fought back with the weapons we had bought or traded fair in square for. Army men came in and stripped us of those weapons. They thought us a threat so much for trying to survive, that they have massacred so many of my people..." Chavez looked down from the sky and away from her. He took in sharp breaths.

"Chavez?" She said quietly and placed a hand on his forearm.

Chavez placed his other free hand over hers, but did not turn to look at her for many moments. When his breathing calmed, he leaned against the church wall, but did not let go of her hand. "My life story is similar to many others. I am the last of my tribe. I went to California to find a way to revive my tribe, but I have failed. All I have left in this world is Billy and Doc, and Doc more than Billy."

He quickly looked back and her and smiled slightly. "So, what about your nursing career? Don't you have to go to some fancy school for that?"

The tension melted away with his slight smile. "Oh no, schooling is for doctors. Doctors, from what I've read in the papers, tell the women what to do, and that's how they become nurses I guess." She sighed and leaned against the wall with him. "I have watched children die in this village, and I cry over them because there is nothing I can do. I cannot whip up a magical remedy and cure them. I feel so powerless. I want to be able to possibly save someone if they've been shot, feed them to help them get better. No child, more matter what they look like or where they come from, should have to die when they are so young. No one should have to succumb to an illness. If he or she is bleeding from being shot, I want to stop the bleeding." She sighed and closed her eyes. "I want to help others, Chavez, so desperately. I have no real desire to partake in the traditional female role of being a reproductive tool. I don't care what God supposedly said about replenishing the earth. I mean seriously? Does it still need replenishing? The last time I looked, it looked perfectly fine the way it was."

After a few moments, Chavez turned her hand over, palm side up, and traced the lines ever so lightly. Laisha felt her checks go hot; his touch was so simple, so intimate. He looked up at her, "Laisha?"

"Yes?" she whispered back.

"May I kiss you?"

She opened her eyes and gazed at him. A question such as that was unbelievably and undeniably personal that her breathing became a little heavy.

"If you do not want it, Laisha, simply say no. I just...I don't know if you feel it, but I feel an attraction to you, a pull. There's a strength in you that is rare in these parts. You speak your mind; you do not hide it in fluffy words. Billy has always been reckless. I do not know if I will live through this; I don't know if I will ever see you again."

"Then stay," she said softly. "Stay here, Chavez."

He smiled sadly and shook his head, "I cannot. Your mother was right about one thing – I AM an outlaw. I cannot live like a normal person. My only chance is to escape. My best chances are in old Mexico."

Laisha stared into the dark lands before her. "But that's so far away..." she softly said.

One of his hands caressed her check. "Laisha..."

She looked back into his eyes. "Yes, please kiss me Chavez."

Chavez gingerly let go of her hand, letting it fall slowly. He stood up and pulled her up with him. One hand went to her upper back, and his other hand cradled her neck, fingers splayed out, each gently touching her. His face dove down to her small oval one. His lips touched her with such a passion that she wrapped her fingers around his waist. She felt inexperienced and awkward as he lips parted hers and coaxed her tongue out to meet his. But soon she fell into suit as he moved his head to change things up.

It was bliss. Laisha's body grew warm under Chavez's touch. She would never be able to think of mass the same way ever again after this night. He was the one to pull away and she found herself wanting more. He sat her down on the bench gracefully, but she was the one to reach for him this time. She tugged on the front of his shirt.

Chavez smirked at her, "Did you enjoy yourself?"

She nodded, her eyes wide and honest.

He leaned forward and his arms encircled her neck. "I don't like it when hair is pulled back like this." He pulled out a few pins and helped her hair fall down.

The dark chocolate waves fell about her shoulders and down to the middle of her back. She looked back up at him.

He smiled, "That's better." He stroked one of her locks for a moment and leaned forward. "I think women look much more beautiful when their hair is down."

"Do I look beautiful Chavez?"

Chavez smiled, "Of course you do."

Why did she have a feeling that he didn't mean it completely? Or maybe her insecurities were getting the best of her and Chavez meant it. "Do you mean it, Chavez? Paulita Maxwell is considered the beauty of the village."

Chavez tipped her chin up to him and kissed her softly. "I do mean it, chica. You are beautiful."

She smiled and threw her arms around him. Yes, it probably seemed rather childish, but it did mean a lot. "I don't believe I've ever had this much confidence." She pulled back. "How can it be that we've known each other less than six hours? You've already had a profound effect on me."

He laughed, "Glad I could help."

"Please, tell me more about yourself...that is if you want to."

Chavez looked back up to the sky. "There is so much that is to my life, it would be impossible to tell it in a few hours."

"Speak whatever you like, and leave out all the rest."

Chavez proceeded to tell her about the massacre that he and his family were involved in. Now Laisha understood why he had become ridged when he asked her those questions pertaining to being a teacher. He talked about a man by the name of John Tunstall, who Chavez swore saved his life by teaching him a way to bury hate without hurting anyone. It was John's murder that had sentenced him to a life as an outlaw. Seven of them set out to capture those who killed John Tunstall, but four of them died in the process, and one of the four had been a traitor all along.

"Did you ever get this Murphy fellow?"

"Billy took him down with one shot to the head from a great distance away. Billy, Doc, and myself went our separate ways, but now we find ourselves back here again in New Mexico. I thought the nightmare was over with when we all left, but it seems it will never end. I fear my fate will end in blood."

"Maybe, but maybe not. I guess...I guess you don't seem the kind of person who believes in fate. We make our on paths on fortune's wheel, and every different path creates a new wheel." She glanced to the side of Chavez, watching the lamps of the village being put out. "Is it...really that late?"

Chavez turned around to see what she was looking at. "What time is it then?"

"It'd be around eight o'clock."

"When do you normally go to bed?"

She stared at him for a second, a little shocked.

He held his hands up and smiled. "I just want to make sure you get home in time so your mother doesn't throw a fit."

She felt relieved by his intentions, and sighed. "Well, sadly, I go to bed around nine."

Chavez nodded. "Then I'll escort you back to your home." He stood up and offered her his hand.

"So soon?" she asked while she took his hand and stood up.

"She'll have a temper tantrum when she sees me taking you back to your place, but she can't accuse me of keeping you out past your bedtime," he laughed quietly.

"I guess..." she murmured. But she latched onto his arm. She didn't want this to be over with so soon. Before she knew it they were standing in front of her home. "So...is this goodbye then Jose Chavez y Chavez?"

Chavez smiled at her softly, "Possibly. Maybe someday I'll come back, when the outlaw life has died down."

All she could do was nod. What could she say? She had already asked him to stay, but he was right. He was an outlaw and he would be hunted. If he could reach Mexico, maybe he could survive. And throughout many years, maybe he would look back on this day.

With two hands on either side of her neck, Chavez bent down to kiss her. He parted her lips, deepening he kiss. She gladly kissed him back, clinging to his shirt. After a few moments, he pulled back. He smiled down at her, his thumb caressing her cheek bone.

"Please don't forget me," she choked out.

"Never."

"And even if you do not meet again someday, I'll always remember you Chavez. I want to be a better person because of you."

"Glad I could help. And thank you for giving me an evening of peace and happiness. God knows I'll need it in the days to come."

She nodded and smirked, "Glad I could help." She wiped away a quick tear, "Goodbye Chavez."

"Goodbye Laisha."

Laisha stood on her toes and kissed him gently. She pulled away and walked to her door and opened it. Laisha heard her mother start to yell at her from the backyard. But it didn't faze her. She turned around and gazed into Chavez's eyes for a fleeting moment before she closed the door. She leaned against it, wanting to cry heavily. There was a heavy and sad feeling that sat upon her heart.

Chavez walked to the door and touched it gently with his fingertips. He looked at the ground before letting go and trudging back to Beever Smiths. He knew Billy, possibly Doc, and company would all question him. And despite the fact that Laisha was back in her home, he would defend her from snarky Dave and anyone else until the day he died.


	3. Chapter 3

Greetings everyone! Thank you for your patience! It's been over six months since part 2! I wasn't able to post these next few parts right away because from July 20th to Aug 15th, I was in Ireland! That's right! Ireland! It was for school – I took two classes over there and got 6 credits! The classes were Irish Literature and Craft of Fiction writing (except mine was an independent study due to the fact that I already took that class)! It was 3 ½ weeks in Dublin and Galway! I was there long enough to really enjoy myself, but for those last few days, I really wanted to come home. Plus a guy I had been seeing on the side (an old friend - someone I had known since high school) decided to break up with me whilest I was in Dublin. Yeah, was crushed at first few days, then was mad for months, but now I know it's his loss. Moving on from personal life...!

I also was extremely busy with 15 credit hours of classes Fall semester, plus I was looking into doing an internship at Disney...but it started getting way too complicated. But I graduated! I officially have a B.A. in English, and a minor in Creative Writing! Huzzah! Unfortunately, they discontinued the Film Studies minor I was working on due to a high surge of incoming freshmen...whyfor always the good classes have to be cut first! My sound advice - go to community college for your beginning college classes – it's a lot cheaper and you get a lot more one-on-one time with the professors, and really good grades if you dedicate yourself to your studies (I got tons of A's and B's, and only one C and one D). Rant complete. And now I'm looking for a job so I can pay back student loans...

On a Fan Ficy note! I am working hard at the Young Guns sequel! Not joshing you! I scribbled in my notebook all semester because when I'm not writing, ideas come most of the time, and I had to figure out a way to stay awake in classes. In fact, I'm coming so close to the end, that I'm gathering ideas on how the end will play out. Now, I just have to type it all up, and I'll start posting after my read through. It does need editing, badly, because I started working on it right after I finished _Setting of the Sun_...so it's been, nearly six years in the making. Yeah, I will have a lot to sort through. But bear with me.

Anyways, on with the story!

For disclaimers, please see chapter one.

Part 3 of 6. Enjoy!

**A Small Measure of Peace**

***~-|-~*~-|-~*Chapter Three*~-|-~*~-|-~***

Laisha cried silent tears as she sat in the tub her mother forced her to take. He mother was furious that she spent time with Chavez alone and unsupervised. On top of it all, her mother said she smelled like a pig and ordered to her take a bath.

"Oh stop crying; a bath won't kill you," Maria Pia snapped as she came back into the private area next to the house. She poured hot water into the tub and shook her head when Laisha hissed. "It's only water. Anyways, hurry up. Your father isn't going to spend all night over at the Maxwell's." She walked away.

Laisha pick up the soap and sponge weakly. She lathered the sponge weakly and sorrow took over. She was washing away Chavez. After a thorough cleaning (because she knew her mother would notice), Laisha put on her nightdress and laid down in her cot, pulling the curtain closed so neither her mother nor father could see her. She hugged her straw-stuffed pillow and fell asleep, crying.

The rooster called to the sun before Laisha knew it. Because her mother had taken away the one from yesterday, she was forced to wear a different shirt and skirt. If she had her way, she would wear pants. Skirts were so pointless while gardening. She poured some water from a pitcher into a small basin and washed her face and neck. It was time for another day.

And that was when memories from last night flowed back into her mind. Even though she had her good, heartfelt cry last night, she still grimaced to keep her from weeping again. She walked out into the garden and looked over the potato rows. The plants looked rather dry. "Mother, I'm going to go get some water for the plants," she called. But she didn't wait for her Maria Pia's response. Laisha grabbed the bucket and made her way to the well. The morning was still young. Only a handful of people, including her, were out and about this morning. The sun reflected gold and red into the sky, chasing away the moon. She looked around her, making sure she wouldn't hit anyone this time, but all she could see was the crazy chickens running around. She lifted the lid to the well and lowered the bucket down. When she felt it fill up with water, she pulled it back up, emptying it into her own bucket. She closed the lid and placed the bucket on top. She squatted down and picked up her bucket with both hands. It seemed as though she was sliding her feet forward.

"Com'mon Billy! We're losing daylight!"

Laisha's head jerked up and she nearly dropped her bucket, so she sat it down. She saw Billy's posse at their horses, but her eyes wandered from person to person until she saw him. Chavez was checking the straps on his horse.

"Oh shut up Dave. We're moving, okay? Besides, this ain't your gang, so back off!" Billy shouted back at Arkansas Dave.

The young men mounted their horses within seconds of each other. Except Pat walked out of Beever's. "Well boys, take care and good luck. Heaven knows your gonna need it."

Why wasn't he going with them? Pat and Billy had been together on adventures for a while now.

"Thanks Pat," Doc answered back.

"Find your way back home, okay Doc? I'm sure your wife is frightened to death."

"I'm sure she is. Take care of yourself Pat."

"Later boys." Pat turned and headed back into Beever's.

"Ready regulators?" Billy smiled nostalgically.

Doc sighed and rolled his eyes, "Yes."

"Ready when you are Chivato," Chavez answered.

"Let's move out," Billy said and he tapped his horse.

One by one, Laisha watched the leave. Hendry French and Chavez hung back for a moment. _Please see me please see me_, she begged with all her heart. It lerched forward when she saw him look around. Chavez made eye contact with her. His horse moved from side to side, eager to go, but he held her eyes. Laisha wanted to run to him, beg him not to leave, but she knew that wasn't her place. She was certain he could read her sadness within her eyes because he sent her a look that she read as caring. Her heart was breaking all over again.

"Chavez?" Hendry asked, looking between Chavez and her.

She couldn't hold him to her anymore. She gave him a half-hearted, small smile and mouthed the word 'Goodbye'.

He stared at her for a moment longer. He was like an ancient warrior going off to battle; leaving the one he loved behind, knowing he would never see them again. 'Goodbye' he mouthed back to her. "Gyaah!" he shouted and pushed his horse into a full run with Hendry trailing behind.

Laisha watched him leave and disappear from the entryway. She picked up her bucket and went back to the garden. She watered the potatoes until the bucket was empty. Hugging her sides, she fell to her knees, and once again cried. Her heart was broken.

He haunted her dreams. His smile, his touch, his voice, everything. She awoke nearly every night, swearing she felt him holding her. To once again she would give a few tears out. Her prayers and wish were only for him and his well being. She continued her life in the garden and with the chickens. Maria Pia would darn socks, pants, and whatever she needed too. Her father would come home from the Maxwell's with his day's wages around dinner time, and they would all sit together to eat. But Maria Pia and Jesus did most of the talking. Laisha preferred not to talk when around her mother, which was virtually all the time. One eveing, both her and her mother snapped.

Maria Pia gazed at one of Laisha's skirts. "How did you manage to get this hole here?"

Silence.

"AHH!" Maria Pia yelled and threw Laisha's skirt at her. "Say something you stupid girl!"

Laisha picked up the skirt. "You horrible woman! You hag! It's because of you he didn't stay!" Okay, that wasn't true, but who would want Maria Pia for a mother-in-law?

"Back to that Indian again!"

"His name is Chavez!"

"I don't care what his name is! He is gone and there is nothing left to discuss!"

"NO!" Laisha yelled. He rushed over to the kitchen table with the skirt. She grabbed the knife her father always carried with him.

"What are you doing!" Maria Pia whispered, backing away.

"You should be afraid mother," Laisha laughed darkly. She spread the skirt our on the table. Once it was even, she stabbed the middle of the dress.

"What on God's green earth are you doing!" This time she was more furious at the dress.

"Making a god-damn pair of pants!" Laisha pulled and ripped the fabric until she reached the bottom. On her own time, she sowed the cloth to make her first pair of pants. She didn't care anymore. In two days she was pulling weeds in the garden and feeding chickens in loose bloomers.

News broke out in the village. Terrible news. The Santa Fe Ring had hired themselves a sheriff to bring in Billy the Kid, and anyone who accompanied him. The villagers kept their eyes open for any bizarre strangers, anyone who looked out of place.

"Here you go Father," Laisha said as she handed her father the sandwich her mother had made for him.

"Thank you Laisha." He took a large bite out of the sandwich.

"I'll see you when you get home," Laisha was about to leave the Maxwell property when Paulita came running in.

"Terrible! It's just terrible!" Paulita cried.

"Paulita, what is it!" Laisha begged.

Paulita was bursting into tears. "Pat Garret! He's the one the Santa Fe Ring hired! He's a good tracker! He's going after Billy, the man I love!" Paulita took hold of Laisha and began crying.

Laisha stood there, shocked. "Chavez," she whispered. When Paulita let go of Laisha and ran into her home, Laisha marched into town. She saw Pat standing with his horse, waiting for godot. Adrenaline pulsed through her veins and she marched right up to him. "Pat Garret! Of all the traitors written about in history, you will go down as the worst of the worst!"

Pat tipped his hat to her, "And a good day to you too, Miss Laisha."

"Don't you 'Miss Laisha' me you traitor!" she growled. Days ago she never would have dreamt of talking to anyone like this, with the exception of her mother of course.

Any smile from his face disappeared, and the two became engaged in a stare down. "I have a chance to redeem myself. You really think I'd turn it down?"

"By betraying your best friend? Not a smart move. And letting yourself get hired by the Ring! How low can you possibly go!"

"I have my reasons Laisha. I'm a sheriff now, and I can finally follow through with my dream of one day becoming a well respected citizen."

"You have no respect in this town. Get out! Go back to Lincoln, where your kind belongs!" She spat at his feet and walked away from the traitor who might very well gun Billy down. This had been the warning she had felt when she begged Chavez to stay with her. Chavez was in danger, and Laisha could do nothing but just hope.


	4. Chapter 4

For all disclaimers, please see chapter one.

Greeting my fellow Gunners. My apologies for this late post...by over a year. So much has happened! Last March, I got a job as a Children's Librarian two towns away, so that's kept me really busy. Personal life wise, mehh, the same as before. I got a new computer back in August! Dell Insipron 660, with over 900 GB of memory and 6 GB of RAM; plus a fancy Dell LED HD 26 inch monitor; and a new comfort curve keyboard from Microsoft. Yes, yes I am a nerd. It's so nice to spend time on the computer without the fear of overheating, and be able to just do normal things without tons of lag time. Still got the laptop, but my new Windows 7 desktop is my baby right now.

Plus, I've become a gamer in this last year. I love my Wii (my first gaming system ever in my life) and computer games - specifically Dragon Age II, LotR Online, Prince of Persia, Aragon's Quest, the many Lego games... Why yes, I am a super geek.

Thank you for all the wonderful people who leave reviews! And the people have added this to a watch list / alert list, or a favourite! Pixie sticks of all of you! And Beth! It is LOVELY to see you back up on FF! Yes, her mother is horrible. At the time I wrote this story, ala 2008/09, I was having some major fights with my parents on a daily basis because I was 20/21 years old, and getting quite frustrated living at home (I was ready to leave home for dorm living at university). Of course, student loans haunt me now, so I'm back at home. Luckily, much less fighting.  
^_^

When writing this part...oh man! Between listening to "Come Josephine in My Flying Machine" from the _Back to Titanic_ soundtrack and the last two tracks from _The Last Samurai_ soundtrack on repeat... I didn't want to the momentum of sorrow. I hope you feel it too! FYI, I cried like crazy when writing this...so I'm issuing a tissue watch...just in case.

Part 4 of 6. Enjoy!

**A Small Measure of Peace**

***~-|-~*~-|-~*Chapter Four*~-|-~*~-|-~***

Time went by. It had been over a week since Laisha saw Chavez, and she wondered if she'd ever get over the brief love affair they had had. But from what she heard from Paulita, no one ever got over their first love. Never. So Laisha felt doomed to remain heartsick until she finally moved on. At night, she heard her mother and father discussing her future to marry Eduardo, a local young man in Old Fort Sumner. Maybe it would be a good thing, but not at this moment. Eduardo was nice and polite, but Laisha was still involved with Chavez, emotionally.

One day, in the early afternoon, she heard a little commotion in town, but as she headed to the door to check it out, her mother blocked the way. She said that someone rode in saying they had shot a Mexican dog trying to kill some of his cattle, and warned the other farmers to be aware. Disappointed, Laisha headed back to the garden and worked some more. That evening, her mother had been the one to volunteer to get the water, which confused her greatly. Seconds after her mother left, her father came storming in. "Laisha!"

Laisha stood up from the ground and wiped her hands on the apron on her dress. Heading into the house, her father came out and pulled her inside. He tossed a wet cloth at her.

"Clean yourself up! Is your mother here?"

"No. Is Eduardo here or something?" she asked as she wiped her face and neck, dirt turning to mud from the water.

"No no no! Laisha, it's Chavez. He rode back in this afternoon with Hendry!"

"What!?" she gasped as she quickened her actions. "Mother said the commotion was from some rancher warning against some dogs killing his cattle!"

"Oh Maria Pia what have you done?" He whispered to himself. "No, now quick. He's at Beevers! Billy just rode in a few minutes ago, and I saw Chavez inside."

_Why didn't he come to see me?_ She wondered. Was something wrong? "Thank you papa! I'm going to see him!" She rushed out the door and down the street.

"I'll hold your mother off for you!" Jesus yelled.

She ran at Beever's place, and shoved aside the mangled curtain. "Chavez," she called. What she saw before her confused and frightened her to no avail. Hendry and Billy sat across from each other at a table. They looked up at her, she looked between them hurriedly. "Where's Chavez?"

Billy stood up and walked to the door.

"Where is Chavez?" Her fear began to set in, and panic was eating at her. "Please," she begged in a whispered voice.

Billy stood at the doorway, leaning against the frame. He spun the barrel of his gun. "He's heading to the graveyard."

It was as though lightning had struck her. There was an emptiness in Billy's voice; and she glanced at his eyes, and saw them void of all emotion, almost near the idea of shock. She glanced back at Hendry. Hendry caught her eyes and she saw they were glistening. She turned back to Billy and gulped. Her fear was true. "The graveyard..." she echoed.

"Garrett got him. Got him good." Billy looked away, ashamed.

"He's dying, Miss Laisha," Hendry said softly.

"No..." she whispered out of despair and backed out of Beever's.

"My pal is strong, but not that strong. No one deserves to die alone," Billy said to her while still looking down at the ground.

He didn't need to finish. No one wanted to die alone, no matter what they said. Laisha turned on her heals and ran. Little clouds of dirt upturned from her slick bottom shoes. Within moments she rounded a corner and saw a cloaked figure staggering to the graveyard entrance. "Chavez," she choked out.

The figure stopped and turned to her. There she beheld his face, and his failing eyes. They searched for her. "Laisha?"

Laisha dashed to his side and put his arm around her shoulders. "I'm so sorry! I didn't know you were back. My mother kept me home; I didn't know, I didn't know."

He cracked a half smile. "Leave it to your mother." He nodded to a small outcove ahead of him. "Please, let's go there."

She walked with him, making sure to keep her pace steady with his. She glanced down and saw the wound in his stomach. A large stain of dry, dark amber was surrounded wet red. "Chavez?" she asked quietly.

"It doesn't hurt much anymore." He smiled at her. "Laisha?"

"Yes Chavez?"

"May I lie against you?"

"Of course Chavez." She felt tears forming, so she forced her eyes to stay open, hoping the dry air would soak up the liquid. She helped him to the ground. There she positioned herself so that his face rested on her chest. "Are you comfortable?"

"Yes," he breathed out. Unlike last time when she had been the one to cling to him, this time his hands and arms were wrapped around her. "Feels nice."

Like a mother, she wrapped her arms around him too. "Good, that's good."

"Do you regret this?"

She was confused. "What?"

Chavez looked up at her. "I met you, advanced on you, and left you, but now here I am again, dying."

She looked down on him and smiled sadly. "Oh no Chavez. I don't regret any of this, and I'd never take it back. You have actually helped me make a very important decision in my life."

"What did I do?"

She beamed at him. "I'm going to be a nurse, Chavez. I'm going to help people when they're sick. I want to hold their hand and calm their uneasiness."

"Like this." Chavez reached his hand out for her and she took it gently.

"Chavez, how long have you been wounded?"

He was silent for a moment, "I was shot this morning."

"And you arrived here this afternoon?"

"Late afternoon."

Guilt was building in her stomach. "Could I have saved you?" she bit her lip. If her mother had prevented her from helping Chavez, of there would be hell for her mother to pay.

"No chica. The Spirit Horse calls me home. My mother, my brothers, sisters, and all those I loved slain at Red Sands...they call to me. I think this was my time."

"Have I given you anything, Chavez? You made me realized what I want to do in life. I've never felt this way before about anyone; you've left a mark on me. But did I accomplish something for you."

Chavez took a sharp breath and grimaced. "You have...in my life, you have given me a small measure of peace. You have reawakened in me the hope that there is still good in this hell of life."

She stroked his hair, trying all she could to ease his pain. "I care about you so much. I wish...I wish..."

"I wish I would have stayed, like you suggested." He attempted to laugh, but broke into a cough. Red trickled out of the corner of his mouth.

Her heart froze. "Chavez," she swallowed. She let the gathering tears in her eyes fall.

He tilted his head to look up at her. "Oh please don't cry." He broke his hand away from hers. His hand touched a tear that was rolling down its own path.

"I hate seeing you suffer like this," she choked out. "I wish I could do something."

"You are. You're here. That's...all I need." He sighed weakly.

"I'm so selfish. I want you to stay, but I know you can't." She tried her best to hold in the sobs that wanted to escape her, and it was slowly becoming difficult. She leaned over and kissed Chavez softly. "Jose Chavez y Chavez, I will never, ever forget you."

"Hey," he smiled weakly, "You remembered my full name. No one really does." He closed his eyes, "Can you sing to me Laisha?" He moved his head to face her again. "Please."

Laisha leaned over and planted a kiss on his forehead. "I'll remember it forever Chavez." She gently moved a strand of hair from his face and moved it to the other side of his shoulder.

_Come Josephine, in my flying machine.  
And it's up she goes, up she goes.  
Come Josephine, in my flying machine.  
Going up she goes, up she goes.  
Balance yourself like a bird on a beam,  
In the air she goes; there she goes.  
Up, up, a little bit higher.  
Oh, my! The moon is on fire.  
Come Josephine, in my flying machine.  
Going up, all on, "Goodbye."_

Laisha felt Chavez's breathing become ragged and breaths slow and sallow. Tears fell freely now. He was starting to leave her.

_Oh, say, Let us fly, girl.  
Where, dear? To the sky, girl.  
Oh, you flying machine.  
Jump in Miss Josephine.  
Come Josephine, in my flying machine.  
Going up, all on, "Goodbye."_

When Chavez didn't speak, she was frightened. Only the feel of his breaths told her he was still alive.

"Laisha..."

She could barely get out the words "Yes Chavez?"

"I can hear them. I can hear my family's voices."

"Th-they must be happy to know you're coming," she choked out.

"They are..." His eyes looked up at her. "I'll miss you."

She smiled halfheartedly. "I'll miss you too."

His eyes glanced to the sky. "I can hear it; the Spirit Horse..." Chavez let out a long breath and his weak body let go. His stained hands fell from her, tumbling to the sandy, brown dirt.

"Cha...vez? Chavez?" She gently shook him. "Chavez?" Laisha gathered him up in her arms and rocked him. "No...no! Please, oh please no…" She looked at the same sky he had only seconds ago. It was full of hues of pink, orange, purple, and blue. Wispy clouds in horizontal lines sat in the sky. This was his sky, and it would always be his sky.

* * *

Laisha fiddled with a sleeve on her dress. She had already read a dime-cent novel three times and it would have been too predictable if she read it again. She had nothing to ease the boredom on the train rides from Lincoln to Santa Fe to Denver. The thought of the city loomed before her, and her nerves were in panic mode. It had been raining all day, and the windows were streaked and spotted with rain droplets.

"Laisha?"

Laisha threw her eyes over at Hendry. "Yes?"

"Are you all right?"

She smiled slightly, "Just nerves."

Hendry closed his book. "It's going to be okay. You've got the job. He'd be very happy for you."

"I know..." She gazed into the cloudy sky. Would he be? Within moments of Chavez's death, she grew up. No more clinging to her childhood. She was a woman now. She wasn't sure if what she felt was true love for Chavez. It may have been a deep friendship; a devotion. Or maybe one of the seven deadly sins, known as lust. But she had truly cared about him. She had wanted his well being above all else. When Hendry has whispered those words to her, her heart cracked. With every step she ran, with every dust cloud she cause and every object or person she had dodged around, the crack traveled quickly down her heart. When he slipped away in her arms, her heart shattered like a rock through the perfect stained glass window. Every aspect and color of her heart fell to the ground, turning into nothing but a million pieces.

* * *

Laisha glanced over at the entrance of the graveyard. Billy hung back, but Hendry slowly walked forward. "Is he...?"

She nodded.

Hendry looked over at Billy and nodded.

She watched Billy walk hesitantly to the graveyard. Hendry ended up pushing him forward slightly. They both bent down and gazed at their fallen friend.

Billy swallowed. "Did he...was he in pain?"

She looked back at Chavez and gently stroked the wisps of hair matted on his forehead. She shook her head, "I don't think so. He was quiet. I sang to him a little. He said he could hear his family...could hear the hooves of the spirit horse." She bit her trembling bottom lip. "Was he happy when he was with you?"

Billy fell back. "No," he whispered. "We lost Doc. Doc and Chavez were the closest of pals, better than I was to either of them. He tried to save Doc, but Doc wanted to finish the game..." Billy gazed off to a memory that had only happened less than a day ago.

"While Chavez was getting away, he was shot by one of Pat's men. Dave wanted to go without him, but I couldn't leave him. If I had known how bad he was hurt, I would have helped him right away. But even though he said was fine, he was hunched over..." Hendry looked at his friend. "He was a good man all the way to the end."

Laisha hugged Chavez to her, "Thank you for making sure he made it back."

Billy snapped back to reality. "How should we...with his body?"


End file.
